My Love, My Soul
by PhoenixFlame17
Summary: <html><head></head>It is a normal summer for Colbie Potter, who has just finished her second year at Hogwarts. But when the new neighbours turn out to be a magical family, she finds herself with a brand new family, and a person who could be her soulmate. FemHar/OMC.</html>
1. The New Neighbours

**Summary: After her rather eventful second year at Hogwarts, Colbie Potter has returned to the Dursley's for the Summer. She was expecting a very quiet, but chore filled holiday - until she met the Di Angelo's. **

**Brand new to Privet Drive, the family of five seem completely normal - until Colbie discovers that all of them are actually of the Magical World. Whether it's the warm and welcoming Mr and Mrs Di Angelo, the all too knowing twins Isabella and Sophia, or the mysterious and gorgeous Jace, Colbie just can't seem to stay away.**

**(So, I figured that a re-write was the best way to get all my new ideas out there, you know? It's been at least three years since I first came up with this idea, and back when I wasn't the best writer...anyway, I hope you enjoy the new story =) )**

**Oh, I also want to thank Emmaline Haesel for giving me that little nudge I needed :D This is for you, lovely.**

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After an hour of absently staring at the ceiling of her small bedroom, Colbie Potter had concluded that there was thirty cracks, nine chips and one large dent from when Dudley had thrown a tantrum and lobbed a small bowling ball, narrowly missing taking his father's head clean off.

I should probably ask for it to be fixed, she thought, still staring. Her eyes were beginning to burn now from not blinking for so long, but just the thought of blinking - of doing _anything_ - was exhausting. Either Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would stare at her, distaste and annoyance written all over their features, like her mere presence was illegal, or they would buy the plaster and make her do it.

Neither prospect looked particularly good, she decided, and immediately banished those thoughts away. She had enough chores, she didn't need anymore. Maybe, if she was allowed to use magic, she could write to Hermione and ask about a spell that could fix it.

Thoughts of Hermione, and magic, made her frown and sigh.

It had been only a week since Hogwarts had finished for the year and the summer holidays began, but already Colbie was missing it. Just the thought of the large, ancient, magical castle sent a sharp pang of longing through her chest: her friends, the dorms, even the _classes_. She missed it all.

She missed the freedom.

Having left Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Colbie had been immediately greeted by the glares of the Dursleys, who were never too pleased to see her survive another year at Hogwarts. As soon as they had arrived at Number Four, Privet Drive, she'd barely been given a chance to put her stuff in her room before she had been given a list of chores as long as her arm.

At first glance, Number Four was a very clean and immaculate place, inside and out, and Colbie hadn't actually seen anything that needed to be done. But Aunt Petunia was very good at creating chores for her niece to do, and had directed her out to the garden.

Apparently, as a congradulations for managing to finish his second year at Smeltings, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had offered their house up for a small party for Dudley and his friends. They'd hosted a barbeque in the backgarden, but had forgotten one thing: Dudley and his friends were little demons from the deepest depths. Needless to say, once Dudley and his friends had devoured enough food to feed an army, the left-overs had ended up everywhere - including in Aunt Petunia's prized roses.

While Colbie would have loved to have seen Aunt Petunia's face, she was glad she had avoided the anger, and most of the clean up.

Somehow, it would have been Colbie's fault.

Even so, she had found food in the oddest places: some under the shed, some buried firmly beneath the dirt, some squished into the grass.

After a week of long, tiring work that had nearly left her with heat stroke, Colbie had finally rid the garden of left-over food, planted some new rose bushes, and made sure the garden was immaculate once again.

Today, Colbie had been given the day off.

It had come as a surprise, a big one, when Aunt Petunia had told her last night, rather coldly, that there would be no chores the next day. She had said that Colbie needed to look very presentable - _smart_ - for some reason.

Colbie suspected it was because of the _Sold_ sign she'd seen on Number Twenty-One as they had returned from the train station.

New neighbours were, surprisingly, a rarity for Privet Drive. Whether it was because of the too perfect atmosphere and appearance of the street, or because you would definitely get a glare or two for driving a car more than a year old, there had only ever been about two new families to the street for as long as she could remember.

Number Twenty-One had once been Number-Twenty-One and Number Twenty-Three. The previous owners, Mr and Mrs Barlow, a couple that had been married for ten years and living on Privet Drive for five of them, had both received promotions at work. With that money, they had bought the recently vacated house next door and knocked through the walls, turning it into one big house.

Of course, the month after it was completed, Mrs Barlow was discovered to have been having an affair with a co-worker and the marriage had crumbled. Mr and Mrs Barlow had divorced, sold the house, taken their share of the money and disappeared from Privet Drive.

That had fuelled the gossip of Privet Drive for weeks.

After standing empty for nearly a whole year, Number Twenty-One was finally purchased.

With its seven bedrooms, three bathrooms and a large backgarden, it had to have been bought by a rich family. Who else buys a house that big, in Surrey, unless they have kids?

Personally, Colbie had never seen the new comers to Privet Drive. Having only been back a week, and busy cleaning up the garden, she was out of sight most of the time. Once or twice, she had heard the arrival of the moving truck first thing in the morning, but it was obvious the new neighbours had sent them ahead with the furniture to be unloaded in time for them to arrive.

Finally dragging her attention away from the bland ceiling, she glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was five o'clock. With a groan, she sat up, her vision swimming slightly as the blood returned to her head after laying down for God knows how long.

The heat of the day was finally settling, and the cool shower she'd had about an hour ago had rid her body of the sticky sweat and helped some in lowering her temperature, but it was still quite humid.

Hedwig had been out all day, since early morning, too hot to stay indoors.

Stifling a yawn, Colbie swung her legs off the bed and stood up, stretching her arms high above her head as she crossed the short distance to the window. She glanced up the street to where she could easily see Number Twenty-One; there was another moving truck, but this one smaller, so she assumed it was the last of the stuff, maybe clothes and small objects.

The family had finally arrived, though, from what she could see. There was a white Bentley parked on the drive, and she could see a boy, probably her age, maybe a bit older, jumping into the back of the truck.

He was too far away for her to see his features easily, but he had black hair, and was dressed in a way Aunt Petunia would turn her nose up at.

" Girl! "

Uncle Vernon's shout easily penetrated the floor and door, and she sighed, pushing away from the window.

Time to play the quiet, ditiful niece.

Once Colbie reached the living room, she could see the Dursley's all dressed up. Uncle Vernon had squeezed himself into the new suit he'd gone out and spent a fortune on the day the moving trucks began to arrive; Aunt Petunia was in a cocktail dress that was...an interesting shade of pink, curls tight and glossy; and Dudley looked more like a pig that had been forced into a suit, face scrunched into a frown and tugging at the collar that was buried in his double chins.

Aunt Petunia gave her a once over, eyes narrowing, lips pursing. " You look a mess, " she snapped, immediately holding up a hairbrush that she had obviously been holding especially for Colbie. " Brush your hair, for heavens sake, and smooth out your clothes. "

Colbie nearly rolled her eyes, but thought better of it, instead taking the brush and walking out to the tall mirror in the hallway by the door. Running the brush through her hair, which had been messed up from where she'd had it pressed into the pillow all day, she looked over herself.

Her top was new, a light shade of blue with a wolf's head printed in black on the front and no sleeves, her jeans were new too, mostly a darker shade of blue with lighter shades on the thighs, and a new pair of trainers.

To keep up the guise of being their poor, charity case of a niece, Colbie had claimed them to be a late birthday gift from a friend, rather than telling them the truth; Hermione had bought from a muggle shop - and in turn, Colbie had bought the school items her best friend had needed for an equivalent price.

Deciding that she no longer looked like she had just rolled out of bed, she put the brush down, smoothed out her clothes, and nodded.

" Ready! "

The Dursley's marched down the street as if they were going to a meet with the queen. Colbie, two casseroles in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in the other, could see neighbours staring out of their windows and peeking over their fences, glares evident.

Colbie recalled the short conversation from early this morning:

" Why don't we wait until they've actually settled in? " She had asked.

Aunt Petunia had looked at her like she was incredibly dim-witted, finishing off the triffle with a can of whipped cream, " because we need to be the first ones there, before any of the other neighbours. It's a hard day, and they won't have any food or drink in their fridge, so we will offer them some, _obviously_. Now go upstairs and leave me alone, I don't want you messing anything up. "

The fridge held two casseroles, one cake, two pitchers of ice cold lemonade and a plate of sandwiches.

After being dismissed, Colbie had returned to her room and and proceeded to; have a nice long nap; take a nice, cool shower; read one of her school books; and then stare at the ceiling for an hour.

Pulling her attention away from everything else but Number Twenty-One, Colbie wanted to warn the newcomers about the truth of Privet Drive. How it was filled with gossips and narrowed, judging eyes and manicured hands, how everyone on the street would greet you with fake smiles and false greetings, and then stab you in the back as soon as you turned around.

Still, there was no chance now, not without being over-heard, and Uncle Vernon would ground her or lock her in the shed.

Probably lock her in the shed, actually, because neither she nor the Dursley's would survive her being confide to the house.

The Dursley's and Colbie made their way up the cobbled path, the boy from earlier absent, probably in the house. Uncle Vernon cast a longing, jealous-filled look at the Bentley, before turning his attention to the house.

He raised his fist and knocked firmly on the door.

The house was huge and modern, with brand new windows that sparkled like diamonds in the sun, the bricks seeming to be new too. The old doors had been removed and a brand new set of double doors, brown, polished wood with long glass covered by white, nearly see-through curtains, and above the doors was a giant window that probably gave a view to the upstairs landing and hallway, and maybe a door or two.

It seemed open and spacey, the sort of place Colbie would love to buy when she was old enough to leave the Dursley's.

A slender shadow came towards the door, and the door swung open -

Colbie's eyes widened slightly. It was a woman, probably only in her late twenties, early thirties at most, and she was gorgeous. Her hair was long and blonde, a sort of golden-blonde, falling over her shoulders and down her back in a waterfall of loose curls and wringlets, her eyes were a stunning shade of blue-purple, framed by long, thick eyelashes and sitting in a sharp-featured face with delicate features. She wasn't tall, more the average height of a woman, with a slender, willowy frame that was encased in a white tank top and a long, white summer skirt that had small flowers sown on, sandal-clad feet poking out.

Colbie could practically feel Aunt Petunia's jealousy; a glance to Dudley showed his eyes were nearly popping out of his head.

The woman smiled, a beautiful, breath-taking smile that immediately made Colbie feel welcome. " Hello, " she said, her voice not quite English, more a mix of accents that she couldn't place.

Aunt Petunia took the reigns, stepping forwards, chin raised and shoulders held up. " Hello, I am Petunia Dursley, from Number Four, " she said, voice high with false sweetness and kindness, " and this is my husband, Vernon, and our lovely son, Dudley. We thought, as your new neighbours, it would be a good idea to welcome you to the street. "

The gorgeous woman blinked, and then smiled again, " thank you! That's so kind of you, I'm Anaelle Di Angelo, " she said, confirming Colbie's suspicions that she definitely was not English. She looked past the Dursley's, straight at Colbie, and her smile widened a fraction. " And who is this? "

Uncle Vernon's hold body went stiff, his shoulders bunched up, " my niece, Colbie Potter, " he said darkly, like he had just admitted to a crime rather than introduced someone.

Anaelle stared at Colbie for a second, something strange written on her face, before she nodded. " It's a pleasure to meet you, Colbie, " she said, and she sounded genuine.

Colbie smiled, a bit shyly, " you too, Mrs Di Angelo, " she said. Then she paused, what if Anaelle wasn't married?

Anaelle smiled brilliantly; she took the triffle Aunt Petunia was holding out. " Let me just go and put this down and get my son. I won't be a moment. " She turned around, leaving the door open, and disappearing from view.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged a triumphant smile: their plan was going well so far.

Dudley picked at the plastic film covering the sandwiches he had been given to carry, but a sharp look from his mother shoved down his seemingly permenant hunger.

While they were waiting, Aunt Petunia turned her eye towards the lawn, which was as immaculate as her own, the green a lucious green, and the hedges trimmed neatly, and Uncle Vernon attempted to nose inside, but the door drifted nearly shut.

It soon opened again.

Anaelle had returned, her smile as bright as the sun, " sorry if I took too long, but I couldn't find my son, " she said, and waved a hand airily, before her smile brightened as she looked at Aunt Petunia. " You know what teenage boys are like, you can never find them when you need them. "

Aunt Petunia gave a fake, high-pitched laugh that made the hairs on Colbie's arms raise, while Uncle Vernon chuckled heartily. " I know what you mean, " he said, and gestured to his large son, " this tyke is always disappearing out with his friends. "

As practised, Dudley gave a large smile that his mother always told him made him look handsome, but Colbie rather thought it just made him look uglier.

Anaelle's fine eyebrow raised, just a fraction, before she turned her body slightly. " This is Jace, " she said.

The boy who appeared at his mother's side was not what Colbie was expecting - at all. It was obviously the boy from the truck, judging by his black hair, which stuck up in soft-looking spikes, and scruffy clothes, but he was, well, _beautiful_. His skin was olive-coloured, his face was narrowing, losing the baby-fat from his younger years, his cheekbones becoming more defined, his features sharp. His eyes...his eyes were a beautiful golden-hazel that were framed by long, thick lashes that fluttered as he blinked.

Dear Merlin, thought Colbie, did everyone in this family look like they were crafted by artists? Even dressed in a loose tank, faded jeans and scuffed boots, he looked like a child model, or something.

Jace was silent, not giving them a greeting, other than his golden eyes flicking to Colbie's face once as he relieved her of the food. He left again, as silently as he appeared.

Dudley scowled, while his parents appeared slightly shocked at the appearance of the boy.

Lowering her head so her red face was curtained by her hair, Colbie stared at the ground. Even though she was nearly thirteen, she had never really had a crush before. Privet Drive was not a place where there were tons of good-looking boys, not at thirteen, and she had been far too in awe of Hogwarts - still is - to pay any real interest to boys.

But him...this Jace Di Angelo...she definitely had a crush on him.

Her stomach was churning, like it had a thousand butterflies in it, and she shifted slightly in attempt to ease it. She felt rather like she had the first time she flew, a sort of nervousness that left her slightly breathless and her heart pounding.

Jace made another trip back, taking the other pitcher from Uncle Vernon, as well as the cake, which left Anaelle to take the sandwiches from Dudley. They disappeared again.

Seconds passed before Aunt Petunia made her displeasure known, turning her nose up and pursing her lips. " Honestly, who lets their son dress like that, especially in public? He looks like one of those...those boys who hangs around in the park, " she said distastefully.

Like your son? Colbie wanted to say so desperately, but she kept silent, though with great difficulty.

Uncle Vernon looked concerned, reaching up to twist the ends of his moustache. " I don't know if Dudley should be friends with him, now, " he said, casting a concerned look back at his son, who simply looked confused, but annoyed, as he always did when he didn't understand a conversation - which was always. " He might be a bad influence on our Dudders. "

Aunt Petunia looked pensive.

Colbie rolled her eyes. If Jace even wanted to be friends with Dudley, which she doubted he would, it wouldn't be him that was the bad influence. What sort of bad influence could you have on a boy who spent his free time beating up younger kids and throwing stones at cars?

" It doesn't matter, Vernon, " said Aunt Petunia quietly, " we can't let anyone else be more friendly with the Di Angelo's. What better closeness could there be then the friendship between our sons? "

From the blatant ignorance Jace had shown them, he was about as likely to become friends with Dudley as Colbie was with Draco Malfoy.

Never going to happen.

As Uncle Vernon nodded and opened his mouth to reply, Anaelle appeared at the door again, a slight red flush to her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and sparkling. " I must apologize, but the house is a mess, boxes everywhere, and I really don't want your first impression to be that, " she said, " so why don't you come back on...Saturday night? For dinner? "

" Oh, that would be wonderful! " Aunt Petunia simpered, looking seconds away from smirking triumphantly over her shoulder at Mrs Number Twenty, who was peering out from behind fishnet curtains. " Shall we bring anything? "

Colbie could see the thoughts rushing around her aunt's head, ideas and images of deserts or starters she could make, the most complicated and difficult ones. Maybe an expensive bottle of wine, or even a bottle of whiskey, if Uncle Vernon was really trying to impress.

" If you want to, " said Anaelle smoothly, kindly, " is there anything I should know? Any allergies? Vegeterians? " She sounded genuinely worried, like Mrs Weasley would.

Uncle Vernon wrinkled his nose, probably at the thought of being a vegeterian. To him, the thought of never eating meat was almost illegal, his displeasure at _that_ written clearly on his face. " No, no, of course not, " he said loudly, " good piece of steak never hurt anyone, did it? "

Anaelle looked as if she wanted to say something, but she inclined her head slightly, smiling lightly. " No, of course not, " she said, and then glanced over her shoulder as if she had heard something.

" Sorry, " she said, turning back to face them. " But I really do have to get back to unpacking. I'll see you on Saturday? "

After all the goodbyes were said, and Anaelle graced Colbie with one last beautiful smile before she closed the door. With a lingering look at the Bentley, Uncle Vernon led his wife and son, and Colbie, from the property, only speaking up as soon as they were off the driveway.

" A dinner invite, " he said loudly, looking around to see if any of his neighbours were lurking on their lawns, - like the Durley's would - waiting and listening. " They were more than happy to ask us round, weren't they, Pet? "

Aunt Petunia put her bony arm through the tiny space in the crook of her husband's arm, letting out a laugh that sounded more like cat screeching.

Colbie glanced over her shoulder, back at Number Twenty-One. Jace Di Angelo was standing in the back of the moving truck, arms crossed over his chest, watching them intently. When she looked, his lips quirked briefly, before he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the truck.

Face flaming, she turned and hurried back to Number Four.

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**So, what does everyone think? **

**An improvement from the old chapter? More informative? Doesn't move as quickly? **

**Three years has sort of impressed on me that I really hate stories that move way too quickly, and I've developed more skills at writing, so, yeah.**

**Reviews? ^_^**

**Phoenix x**


	2. Author's Note

**Hi,**

**I have replaced Chapter One with a brand new chapter, so if you could read that first, please, and Chapter Two will be up on Monday!**

**Phoenix x.**


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